


Perfect

by sweariwouldnt



Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: 2015 era, A Bit of Fluff, Drinking, Flashbacks, M/M, Swearing, a bit of angst, a bit of fighting, mentions of closeting and stunts and a vague reference to E, non-au
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 22:01:36
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,408
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11655585
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sweariwouldnt/pseuds/sweariwouldnt
Summary: Harry and Louis write Perfect.





	Perfect

**Author's Note:**

> I've had this headcanon in my head ever since I heard Perfect. This little story is much like I interpret the song itself - a little bit of loving and a little bit of sad. 
> 
> Thanks so much to Jacky for organising this great challenge for great songs!

“What time is Stan coming again?” Harry shouts as he’s going through his rows and rows of button-ups in the walk-in closet. 

“Train’s here at half four, I’ll go pick him up then.” Louis’s laying on his stomach in their bed, scrolling down on his phone and swearing he has to stop following such shitty meme accounts. 

“King’s Cross?” 

“Yeah.” 

Harry nods though Louis can’t see it, and comes out of the closet back to the bedroom.

“Help me out, Lou. Which one?” Harry’s holding two hangers, one with a maroon button up and the other with a lighter, floral one. Turning to Louis, he models them both over his upper body. 

“Hard to say, babe. I’d kinda need to see the bottom to match these with? Unless you actually are wearing just your pants, in which case, don’t even bother with a shirt. Will ruin the look.” 

Harry rolls his eyes good-humouredly. “Please. This might come as a shock, but I’m actually going to wear black skinny jeans.” 

Louis shrugs. “I never know with you.” 

“I’ve worn black skinny jeans with everything for like, maybe three years now?”

“So it’ll probably come to an end one day. You might go crazy and wear blue jeans. Just checking today isn’t the day.” 

Harry looks at him deviously, and goes back to his side of the closet. He takes out a pair of dark blue jeans – so dark they’re almost black, but not quite – and pulls them on. He looks at Louis vindictively. 

“Didn’t see that coming _at all_ ,” Louis raises his hands. “Come closer so I can check you out.” 

Harry walks up to the bed, gives Louis a quick kiss and turns around, so Louis can check out his bum. He can’t help but wiggle his bum to Louis’ face, resulting in Louis swatting him and telling him to behave. 

“A bit loose, these ones. On you, I mean. Would still probably be too tight to breathe in for normal people,” Louis observes as he cups Harry’s bum cheeks. He pulls on one of the belt hoops to see how much the waist stretches, and squeezes Harry’s thigh just below his bum. “You look really good, babe. Peachy.” 

“I shouldn’t change to my normal jeans?” 

“Nope, these are perfect. Try the floral shirt first.” 

Harry opens the buttons and puts the shirt on. It’s of cream colour, little flowers in different shades of brown and light orange scattered around the fabric. 

Louis gives him thumbs up. “Perfect, as well. My fashion guts are never wrong.” 

Harry turns to look at himself in the mirror and nods. “How many buttons should I do? Tits on full show or just a hint?” 

Louis starts laughing. “Just a hint, please. I don’t want Stan to get any ideas.” 

“I’m sure he’s pretty aware of my relationship status.” 

“You’re still such a flirt.”

“I’m not! I’m just very much a people person,” Harry winks to Louis through the mirror and puckers his lips, sending him a kiss. 

“Yeah, yeah.” Louis smiles. “Do as few buttons as you want, babe. It’s your titties. I think it’d look better if you only undo like, two from the top.” 

Harry complies, and it’s perfect. A little bit of skin but not too much. 

“I don’t get why you’re getting so worked up though, to be honest. It’s just Stan. He’ll swoon over you no matter what you wear. He isn’t coming over for a fashion show.” 

Harry makes a mental note to play dress-up with Stan tomorrow. “I’m not… I’m going out, remember?” 

“What?” Louis sits up. 

“Meeting up with Lou.”

“What, today?”

“Yeh, like now.” Harry turns back to the mirror to ruffle his hair. “I told you.” 

Louis huffs. “No, you definitely did not.”

“Come on, Lou. I told you ages ago. That when Stan’s coming, I’m meeting up with Lou earlier. It’s some sort of cruelty-free make-up promo thing masked as charity.” 

“Why would you set that up when you’ve known for ages that Stan is coming down? We haven’t seen him in months!” 

“This was organised earlier. Damn it, Lou, don’t give me that look. You knew about this and said it was fine. Said you’re happy to have, and I quote, some Donny lad time.” 

“I honest to God never said that. He’s been looking forward to seeing _us both_ and I, I thought you were happy to see him too.” 

“He’s here for three days! I’ve got plenty of time to hang out with him.”

“You have not told me,” Louis mutters. “Totally just bringing this up now because you knew I’d be pissed off.” 

Harry looks at his watch and sighs. “Listen, I’m sorry if you don’t remember. I absolutely did tell you and you were fine. Stan even knows, I told him I’d see him later tonight or tomorrow morning.” 

“When did you talk to him?” 

“This morning, said I’m really excited to see him again and that I have another thing I need to go to, _set up before I knew he was coming_ , and that I’d see him later.” 

“I see,” Louis squints his eyes at him. “So you made sure to have your back covered.” 

Harry tuts. “That’s not… Whatever. I’m sorry you don’t pay attention to what I’ve told you ages ago. I’ll be more repetitive next time.” 

“Bugger off,” Louis flips him off. “Go enjoy your better friends.” 

“Right, be like that then.” Harry takes another glance at his watch. “Listen, I really need to go, I’m already late. I hope you boys have fun. I don’t think I’ll be late, so…” 

“We will. We’ll have so much fun we won’t even notice you’re gone. Be as long as you bloody want.” 

“Whatever, Lou. I’ll see you later. And don’t take being annoyed with me out on Stan.”

Harry leaves and heads downstairs, looking for his car keys. He is absolutely certain he did tell Louis, and that Louis was fine with it. Bloody hell, of course he’d want to hang out with his good friend and his boyfriend more than go to some glitzy bar to pretend there’s no place he’d rather be, listening to people he doesn’t know talk about things he doesn’t care about, but he had agreed to join Lou to this thing ages before. 

He sits on the driver’s seat and picks up his phone, searching his and Louis’ conversation history with the word ‘Stan’. It’s the second result that shows up after birthday gift planning; a conversation of Harry saying he’s got a thing when Stan gets here but it shouldn’t take long, and Louis’ reply being a row of sad faces and then another, saying it’s probably good for the Donny lads to have a catch up first. Harry takes a screen shot of it and sends it to Louis – who’s probably not going to read it in a while, because he’s petty like that when he’s pissed off. Harry starts the Audi and heads over to Lou’s to pick her up. 

\--

Harry’s had a few mocktails but right now, he’s seriously contemplating on changing to actual drinks so he can get through this. He feels like his lips and mouth have dried up with the amount of open-mouthed staring he’s been doing in the past hour or so. He can’t help it; Louis always laughs at him for not being able to contain his feelings showing up on his face, and right now he knows he probably has gone from different stages of annoyance to shocked disbelief. At least that’s what Lou’s frequent side glances at him suggest. 

The venue is a fancy bar somewhere in Mayfair. They’ve probably opted for Scandinavian chic in the décor but the result is clinical, impersonal and cold. It’s all white and glass. At least Harry got to give some money for animal rights, but Lou definitely owes him big time for dragging him here. It’s pretentious and he finds the amount of fur worn by the guests fucking ridiculous for an animal rights event.

They’re sat down in a table with two of Lou’s friends that Harry doesn’t know that well, a girl named Lola (well, real name is Laura but she had deemed it too common) and her boyfriend, Rich. Sometimes Harry seriously wonders how Lou picks out her friends. Lola seems like such a turn-off of a person, dressing out to seem very hippy and fun and hipster, but the second she opens her mouth, the façade fades. She’s keeps interrupting Lou if she tries to say anything to participate in the conversation, and regardless of what Rich says, she mocks it and puts him down. Harry’s unsure if Lola really is that self-centred and frankly awful, or if she’s one of those who live to provoke. Either way, neither are going to be added on Harry’s and Louis’ Christmas card list. Truly a match made in hell.

“Well, I guess if you’d pay more attention to people around you and not just yourself, you’d know the answer,” Rich is rolling his eyes at something Lola just said. 

“If only people around me were more interesting, I might,” Lola snaps. 

“Sorry we can’t all be so fucking amazing as you, _dear_.”

“He’s such a twat,” Lola fake-whispers to Harry and Lou, who laughs awkwardly out of courtesy.

“Four years with you made me this way. Was way better before and then you ruined my life.” 

Harry sputters his drink a bit. “Uhm, four, four years? You’ve been together for four years?” 

“Give or take.” 

“We’ve been on again, off again for most of it.”

“Gotta get a bit of distance to remember what you might be losing.” 

“What he means is that he realises he can’t get anyone as good as me and comes crawling back.” 

“And you, like… It’s fine then, again?” Harry is so perplexed. 

Lola shrugs. “It is what it is.” She gets up. “Getting myself another drink. At fucking least there’s free booze here.” 

Rich taps her tout stomach patronisingly. “Be careful with that, Lola. Don’t want to go around with a beer belly. Now, would anyone else actually want a drink as well?” Rich asks as he stands up. 

Harry shakes his head, Lou asking for another daiquiri. Harry watches as Lola and Rich walk over to the bar, his hand pinching her arse and she turns around to slap him, not hard by any means, and then… Well, then they exchange a heated kiss in the middle of the floor. 

“Alright,” Harry whistles and downs his drink. 

Lou looks to him with an apologising expression on her face and sucks her teeth. “Quite the pair, I know. I’m sorry. I rarely see them and they can be fun.” 

“I’m sure,” Harry says slowly as he looks at his phone. Louis has finally replied, saying _‘My bad then, soz. Hope you’re having fun. We’re playing beer bong. Bring more beer. Give a cuddle to LouTeas. Love you, tit peach.’_ , followed with a string of fruit emojis. 

“How quickly can you finish that daiquiri?” Harry turns to ask Lou.

\--

Bless Lou’s quick drinking skills; it’s barely thirty minutes later when Harry drops off Lou. He drives to their local off-licence that’s luckily quiet, stocking up with some beer and ciders, and then heads home. 

He finds Stan first, just heading over to the loo. 

“Stan the man!” Harry’s hugs Stan warmly, delightedly. Stan is one of his favourite people; they don’t see each other as often as they’d like to, but it feels like picking up where they left off every time they do. 

“Hazza you… cazza!” Stan smacks a wet kiss on Harry’s cheek, ruffling his hair. Harry can smell the beer. “Sorry mate, really need the loo now. I’ll come up with better rhymes there.” 

Harry chuckles and nods, heading over to the game room. The boys have set up beer bong on the ping pong table, and Louis is practising his throws. 

Harry feels his heart expand at the sight of Louis. He walks up to him, and hugs him tightly from behind, nuzzling his cheek to Louis’ shoulder.

“Hiya, love,” Louis sounds surprised. “All good?” 

“Yeah, I just… Sorry about that stupid fight.” 

“I’m sorry too,” Louis turns around to nudge his forehead against Harry’s. “Did you have fun?” 

“No, I was _miserable_.” 

“What happened?” 

Harry sighs. “There was this… couple, I guess. Lola and Rich. Nasty people. They were so fucking awful to each other.” 

“You’re such a gossip.” 

“They deserve it. Like, it was all venom and they were mean to each other and kept putting each other down and… Such an unhealthy thing to even watch.”

“Hmm,” Louis kisses Harry. “Poor bastards, then. Bet they break up soon.”

“That’s the thing! They’ve been together for four years, on and off, and like… Just makes me sad. That people put up with that.” 

“It’s not your relationship, though.” 

“Thank fuck.” Harry squeezes Louis tighter. “Thanks for never being like that. Like, we fight and piss each other off but it’s never anything like that. I still want to come home to you.”

“I’m glad,” Louis kisses Harry’s temple. “I want you to.”

Stan comes back from the loo and jumps on them. It’s a rowdy but pleasant group hug. They get more drunk and the beer pong gets sloppier. They make frozen pizzas, and eat ice cream straight from the tub. It’s the perfect night in.

\--

Stan compliments himself again on being such a good houseguest, as he’s taking the frying pan off the stove, fried eggs sizzling. The kitchen smells like coffee and toast, and he’s even managed to mix up a fruit salad, chopping some bananas and pears, mixed with a packet of blackberries he found in the fridge. This house strangely feels like a home, though he hasn’t been over too many times – he feels comfortable in the kitchen, going through cupboards and cooking up breakfast, knowing Louis and Harry won’t mind. 

“Good morning,” comes a big yawn from the door. Harry’s only wearing underpants as per usual, stretching his hands up and then scratching his side, curls still in a post-sleep mess. He sits down by the table, pulling one leg to his chest and leaning his cheek on his knee. “You’re brill, Stan. You didn’t have to do this, but it’s much appreciated.” 

“Gotta thank you somehow for making such good choices with beds,” Stan reaches out to give Harry a cup of coffee. “That bed is heaven. I might just move in here. Could be a housekeeper.”

“Alright,” Harry chuckles, voice still a bit rough from sleep. He takes a sip of coffee and sighs happily. “You’re hired.”

“Morning,” Louis grunts as he walks in.

He walks to Harry first, lazily hugging him from behind with his hand on Harry’s chest. He dips his nose to Harry’s hair, and Stan bets he sees him smell it. Harry touches Louis’ hand on with his fingers, and lifts it to his mouth to kiss it. “You snored so much, babe,” Louis whines. 

“I always snore when I’m drunk. You know that,” Harry hums nonchalantly as Louis tips his head backwards and kisses Harry’s forehead. 

Louis then walks to Stan, squeezing his shoulders as he makes himself a cup of tea. “My mouth’s watering. Good job, Stan.” 

“He’s our new housekeeper.” 

Louis raises his eyebrow as the sits next to Harry and picks up a blackberry from the fruit salad bowl, throwing it to his mouth. “Yeah?” 

Harry nods and then opens his mouth big so Louis can throw another blackberry in. He misses the first one, the berry falling on the floor and tries again, successfully, with a piece of banana. 

“You two clearly need one. Honestly, how is this place even this clean with the amount of mess you two make?” Stan wonders as he puts the fried eggs into three plates, then placing a plate of toast on the table. 

“We clean!” 

“Yeh, we clean well.” 

“See, we have a system.” 

“What system? Oh, no, wait – is this something dirty? I’m eating, thanks. Save the details.” 

Louis swats Stan’s arm as he continues, munching on a piece of toast. “We take turns in making a cleaning playlist.” 

“They’re epic,” Harry nods. “Last time we did the Les Mis soundtrack.” 

“Made cleaning very… Marchy.”

“And efficient.” 

“Right, right. I’m not doing my housekeeping to musicals, though. It’ll be all heavy metal.” 

Harry frowns. “Sounds a bit dangerous, that. Like you’d just end up breaking stuff.”

“Haz, please. We had Rage Against The Machine on, not too long ago.” 

Harry tips his head to the side. “Yeah but you were being annoying then. I needed to listen to something aggressive.” 

“How was I annoying?”

“We had quests coming and all you wanted to do was fool around and…”

“Okay! I don’t think I need to hear the rest of that sentence.” Stan says loudly. 

Louis sticks his tongue out to Stan. 

“Nothing wrong with it, Stan.” Harry leans over to Louis to kiss his shoulder and then he giggles a bit. “You need to get used to it if you’re going to work for us.” 

“Okay, okay, I hereby withdraw my offer. You two are insufferable,” Stan moans but it’s good-humoured, “especially when you gang up on people. Pretending to be such nice fellas but you’re really just idiot kids.” He glances Louis meaningfully. “ _Still_.”

“Idiot kids,” Louis says cheerfully and high fives Harry’s expectant hand. 

Stan shakes his head. “Perfect for each other, really.” 

After breakfast, they go to the big back garden and play football. Well, Louis and Stan play against each other, Harry yet again being assigned to play goalie – ‘ _makes us feel so accomplished with how easy it is to score_ ’ – but he doesn’t really mind. Stan and Louis both love football a lot more than he does, and it’s always entertaining to watch them get very competitive about it, butting heads and offending each other. Harry knows how much the childhood friends adore each other and he happens to adore them both, too. 

\--

“I know you let that last goal in on purpose, H.” 

Harry looks at Stan, shocked. “I would never!” 

“Just think it’s funny that Louis was losing with one goal and suddenly it ended in a tie, that’s all.” 

“You saying my boy is a cheat?” Louis fakes annoyance and shoves Stan by his chest, with no actual force. Stan just laughs, as Louis turns to Harry and pats his bum. “Thanks for that, babe.” 

“I’ll take the cheating to the grave with me, lads. If you feed me. I need lunch. A good lunch. A London lunch.” 

Louis and Harry look at each other for a bit, contemplating silently until Harry lifts his eyebrows in realization. “That Vietnamese place we love!” 

“Oh fuck yeah.” 

“Vietnamese?” 

“Yeah, there’s a place fairly nearby we really love. A family place, lovely people, even lovelier food.” 

“Isn’t it…” Stan hesitates for a bit, unsure how to phrase it. “A bit risky for you guys to be, like, seen out together?” 

“Don’t worry,” Harry waves his hand. “They know us. We always get the private room and use the kitchen door, it’s fine. Just need to call in advance to check.” 

Harry calls to make a reservation, saying ‘hi’ and ‘bye’ in Vietnamese, much to Stan’s surprise and Louis’ delight. 

\--

The restaurant is very cozy and the food is delicious. Louis has Stan in fits with elaborately telling him the story of how he and Harry originally found this place; the poor staff lady had thought they were robbing the place when they’d knocked on the door just before closing time, scarves over their faces and hoodies on, beanies pulled deep into their heads. 

“Ah, was that the lady who saw to us? Raising her hands up as if on a gun-point?” 

“Yeah, she always does that when we come in. It’s out little inside thing, now.” 

“Kinda like Haz can never not ask if he can pee on me when we’re in public toilets at the same time.” 

“Heey!” Harry yelps. “I do always make sure they’re empty.” 

“But you do reference back to our first meeting, no? What a pull that was, peeing on me.” 

“It worked, didn’t it? Not sure which one of us that story embarrasses more, to be honest.” 

Stan bursts out laughing. “Oh, Louis for sure! Has he ever told you the stuff he texted to me that day?” 

“Stan…” Louis starts warningly. 

Harry looks from Stan to Louis and then back again. “What? There’s something you haven’t told me?”

“It’s really no biggie,” Louis mutters at the same time as Stan rubs his hands together. 

“ _Stan, do you think all angels have curls or does having curls make you an angel?_ ” Stan says in a high-pitched voice. 

Louis groans and buries his head to his hands. Harry makes a delighted little squeak. 

“ _Stan, how pathetic is it on a scale from Oli to you to try and hit up a bloke in the loo?_ ” 

“Feel free to stop at any point now. Really, any point at all.” 

“ _Shit shit shit he just fucking peed on me. Does it mean I could well be in? You don’t pee on someone you don’t fancy, right?_ ” 

“Aww, honey, such sweet talk,” Harry’s beaming at Louis and patting his thigh. 

“ _Fucking score mate, got his name and a picture. Can you google Harry Styles?_ ” 

“Can’t believe you never told me you stalked me,” Harry looks at Louis with his eyes bright. “That’s so cute.” He kisses Louis’ temple. 

“What is this, bully your best friend and/or boyfriend day?” 

“What a glorious day!” Harry giggles. “How do you remember them so well, though?” 

“Because he fucking sends me the screenshot every year on that day, that’s how.” Louis finally lifts his head up. “A tad creepy, mate.” 

“Well I think it’s adorable. I want the screenshots, too,” Harry says to Stan who nods. “Oh Lou, being so excited about being peed on.”

“You were sending me, like, fucking lustful looks the whole day!”

“And yet you did nothing! I had to do all the work. You’re welcome, by the way.” 

“I can’t with you two. You manage to be so disgusting and still so fucking cute at the same time.”

\--

They have an early night that day, heading to bed after watching two movies with the lowest ratings on Rotten Tomatoes they could find on Netflix, and eating too much popcorn. 

“I’ve lived with you for like four years and I still don’t know what your secret is, with making popcorn. It’s even better than at the movies,” Harry says as he’s coming to bed, putting on moisturiser from his nightstand. “And especially with doing them like, with oil and kernels in a saucepan.” 

“It’s for me to know and you to not know,” Louis says absentmindedly. “What can I say. I’m an old-fashioned man, Harold.” He’s got his laptop propped up on his thighs, legs bend up. 

“What are you doing?” Harry leans closer, putting his head on Louis’ shoulder as he nuzzles deeper under the covers. “Is that lyrics?” 

“No, more just… meanderings.” 

“ _Baby, you’re perfect_ ,” Harry reads from the screen. “Is this about me?” 

“High self-confidence there, Haz. But yeah. I guess it might be about you.”

“Are you writing me another song? I love it when you write me songs.” 

Louis shrugs. “I don’t know what this is, if it’s really anything. Just that… Stuff that Stan said today, some of it kinda got me thinking.” 

“Think about what?” Harry loops his arm lazily around Louis’. 

“Just… us. What we have, and like, how it all started and how well you did for peeing on me.”

Harry chuckles and brushes the back of his hand on Louis’ wrist. “Disgusting but cute idiots. Yeah, I can see why people would reckon that.” 

Louis smiles softly. “And like, the stuff you said the other night, about that couple who were awful and how we’re not like that… “

Harry hums. “I like this concept. What do you have so far?” 

Louis turns the screen slightly to Harry. It’s not many lines in yet: _When I first saw you, from across the loo, I could tell that you were luscious_. Then there’s a quite a bit of space, until the text _Chorus?: Baby, you’re perfect_.

“I love the word luscious.” 

“I know you do.” 

“Okay,” Harry unhooks his arm from Louis’ and sits up, cross-legged. “I wanna write this with you. We haven’t written together in ages.” 

“Alright,” Louis’s so on board. 

They write most of their stuff separately; it’s both easier as they tend to write about each other most of the times, and it’s also easier for… keeping up appearances to not have shared song credits, at least with just the two of them. Or so they have been told, multiple times. But this, this song about them, they could do it together, and it doesn’t necessarily even need to become a thing. He just really wants to do this with Harry now. Make something together that’s really for them, about them, and by them.

Harry turns around, getting his current notebook and a pen from the nightstand. “I’m honestly so excited about this, Lou. Seeing how you go on about writing a song, and doing a song about us.” 

“Just hope we don’t fall apart on artistic differences.” 

“Pfft. At that point we’ll just do our own songs and let the boys decide. And bet, of course.” 

Louis nods. “Sounds like a plan. But a plan b, let’s at least give this a go.” Louis taps his keyboard, deep in thought. 

Harry chews his pen for a bit, and then takes it off his mouth. “What did you first think, when you saw me? Except that I’m a luscious angel, of course.” 

“I guess I just… hoped you’d be cool. Like, if you weren’t interested in me like that, you at least wouldn’t be a dick about it. You seemed sweet enough, though. I didn’t think you’d like, beat me up or anything if I came to talk to you.”

Harry scribbles something down, and nods. “Was a bit the same, for me. I thought you seemed really interesting, and you were so cute, and I just… Wished you’d be into the same stuff as me. Like, not necessarily boys but like, that you wouldn’t think I’m lame.” 

Louis laughs. “I thought you were, like, the coolest thing. Everything you said and thought was so quirky and I just couldn’t get enough of listening to you.” He’s quiet for a bit, and then leans to kiss Harry. “Still can’t, actually.” 

Harry kisses Louis again after Louis breaks the first kiss, pressing his palm on Louis’ cheek. “Thank you. And me too. I still want to know everything about you, too.” 

“We got really lucky, babe. How we both turned out to be not dickheads, but like, so good for each other. Thinking the same things and feeling the same things. Wanting to do the same things.”

Harry suddenly taps the head of the pen to his temple and then raises it, to mark that he had a brilliant idea. “What if we like… Write it as, you see someone you really fancy, and then just like, list the things you’d want to do with them? Hoping they’d want to do it with you?” 

Louis nods slowly, clearly weighing the idea. “Could put in stuff we actually did do?” 

“Oh yeah! Stuff like, from when we were kids. Fun stuff. If the song would be like, a light jam of how you’d want to fall in love?” 

“And then we did.” 

“We did,” Harry looks at Louis fondly. 

“Also, one of the first things I thought about you, after we got talking, was how mum-friendly you were.” 

“Mum-friendly? What even is that?”

“Like, how proud I’d be to take you to meet my mum. You were so sweet and polite, and nice to everyone around you. I couldn’t wait for you two to meet. You were like a dream thing to bring home to mum.”

Harry starts laughing. “That’s not what you told me at one point.”

Louis looks at Harry, questioningly, so Harry explains. “I remember there was a time you definitely didn’t think so.“ 

_Louis had never seen Harry as angry as he was now, and he was getting angrier every second. They were sitting in the management’s meeting room, getting another bollocking. Harry hadn’t said a word yet, but Louis knows him – the way his knuckles were turning white from how hard he was gripping the chair handles, how he was gritting his teeth and how his eyes were narrowed to slits from how hard he was frowning. It was a sign that Harry was ticking and about to blow up. Louis could get mean and personal and spiteful when he was pissed off; he wouldn’t want to face himself on a bad day. But Harry, kind and dorky Harry who usually was too nice for his own good… When he got pissed off, truly angry, he was like a force of nature._

_Louis stirred back to reality from his thoughts as Richard, that utter Dick, talked again._

_“So, all this considered, I think it would be better if you just stop with this… silliness. You’re just kids, it’s very cute that you think this is love or whatever, but it’ll be easier for you to just call it quits. Teenage love doesn’t last, anyway.”_

_“Excuse me?” Louis huffed really fucking annoyed._

_Harry finally exploded. “This is MY relationship, this is going to be MY marriage one day, and I don’t give a shit what you tell to media or what you force us to pretend, but you leave us the fuck alone.” His voice got colder and louder with every word and he got up from the chair, ending the rant with slamming his hand on the table. The suits flinched. “We’re going, Lou.”_

_“Harry, now you’re just being…”_

_“WE ARE GOING!” Harry snapped and opened the door for Louis to go through first. He slammed the door shut behind him, the bang echoing behind them._

_They got into their car, not speaking. Harry sat behind the wheel and tried to calm down, evening out his breath. Louis could see his hands are shaking._

_“I’ll drive,” Louis said finally, “you’re too roadragey to drive.”_

_Harry turned to look at him, like he’d snapped out of a trance._

_“I yelled. I can’t believe I yelled so much. It felt like… I was fuming, I was so, so angry, Lou. Was almost a little scary.”_

_Louis looked at him in awe. “You were fucking a, babe.”_

_“Yeah?” Harry beamed. “I was so angry, I didn’t even think. It’s like I can’t even remember it anymore, just a black hole in my head.”_

_“You were so impressive. But scary. I better never take you to my mum in that stage, though.”_

“God you were amazing that day. I could pretty much smell them shit themselves.” 

“Not my proudest moment,” Harry looks a little embarrassed. 

“Well, I loved it. You were so… protective and angry and, like, talked about marriage. It was the final seal for me, knowing you’d always have my back.”

“Always. Why were we even there, do you remember?” 

Louis picks his memory for a bit. “Ah, I think it was after we, uhm, got caught in that hotel. That actually was embarrassing.” 

Harry groans at the memory. 

_They were both drunk and high on the post-gig energy, feeling like they were flying and it would be forever impossible to feel anything but supernatural. None of them had ever been this far from home; they had just done a great gig and the audience had been superb, knowing all the lyrics. Harry’s ears were still ringing from the screams. They’d gone to a bar after, with the boys and the band, spending money on fancy overpriced drinks and shots._

_Back in the hotel, it had somehow seemed like a good idea to have a toga party in the middle of the night with the five of them. They’d been skateboarding in the hallway dressed in nothing but white bed sheets, and then moved to Harry and Louis’s hotel room to play spin the bottle, until the boys had given up and gone to sleep in their own rooms. Harry and Louis had proceeded to have quite drunk and rather loud sex in the shower, until there’d been a demanding knock on the door and the receptionist had blushed heavily, trying to keep his eyes at Harry’s face and not his naked, wet body, asking them to please keep it quiet for the other quests. Obviously, the receptionist had gossiped to his colleagues about those boybanders being drunk and naked and sharing a room that smelled like sex – management had heard about it, put strict NDA’s through to be signed and (Louis’ guess) paid a bit extra for the staff’s efforts. The story never got out properly, it would’ve been a scandal – but Harry and Louis were invited to see the management for a bollocking of a lifetime._

“God I still feel awful about that. Poor neighbours!”

“Yeah, skateboarding and flashing on the hotel aisles… We were idiots.” 

“Absolute menaces. We did have a lot of fun in hotels, back then. And, I still have the most fun with you. Just maybe not in hotels that much anymore.”

“Guess it was still so new and fancy. Not like it is these days. Just what we do now, like a second skin.” 

“Hmm,” Harry looks a bit wistful. “Guess it’s natural for the excitement to wear off, when hotels become more a place where you just sneak around, hiding yourself and using backdoors and feeling like you’re doing something illegal or awful, and you’re just trying to meet up with someone you’re actually engaged to.” 

Louis laces his fingers with Harry’s and runs his thumb on the soft skin of his hand gently. “Remember that one time you flew to New York, just for like, seven hours?” 

“Six.” 

_They have this, rule you could call it, of not being away from each other for more than two weeks. When the forced separation and purposeful keeping them apart with organising stunt appearances had started, they’d realised quite soon that they needed to set some rules to how they could actually manage the longing, for it to not become too unbearable. Two weeks had been the limit that they noticed was the maximum time they could deal with before they just had to see each other; rekindle a shared connection that facetiming and hearing each other’s voice and seeing a pixelated face couldn’t ever replace._

_Louis had been to on ‘holiday’ with Miss Thing as Harry referred to her (on a good day; he had other more offensive names reserved to call her on worse days) and was now in New York, with Harry being stuck in London with several writing sessions organised with songwriters for their next album. It had been nice, as well, to have some down time and hang out with friends and see his family, but he missed Louis a lot. Things were especially hard when he could see Louis be so frustrated, not really coping well with having to play along with all the public lies. And things were just going to get worse, Harry knew; he was due to fly to LA for some stunting himself, too._

_They’d had another stupid row on the phone, about nothing really except volatile and vulnerable emotions gathering heat from not seeing each other in such a long while. They didn’t really fight about the shit they both had to do, there was obviously no need for jealousy but just such deep sympathy for each other – and missing, God the missing was always there when they were apart. Harry felt physically incomplete and a little bit lost, a little bit less like himself, when Louis wasn’t there._

_“Fine, I’ll stop in New York on my way to LA.”_

_“Don’t be daft, that’s like, so stupid. You’d barely get to the hotel from the airport before you have to leave again.”_

_“So you don’t want me to even try, is that what you’re saying?”_

_“It’s just stupid. You’ll be exhausted. And it’d be so late anyway, like, there’s seriously no fucking point.”_

_“See you, Lou,” Harry had finished the call and asked his PA to book him an earlier flight to NYC after all._

_It was just past midnight when he’d arrived at Louis’ hotel. He quietly sneaked into Louis’ room, having got an extra key card from Oli. Louis was snoring softly, deeply asleep, hugging one pillow and most of the duvet kicked down to his feet. Harry’s forever thankful for his genes that allow him to sleep like a log anywhere, including moving aircrafts, so he wasn’t feeling too exhausted, having slept the most of the flight. He stripped himself naked, and carefully lay down on the bed. He unwrapped Louis’ arms from around the pillow, snuggling himself close to Louis and wrapping his arms around him instead of the pillow. He pulled the duvet up over them. For a moment he just looked at Louis, carefully brushing his hair off his face, tracing his eyebrows and gently brushing his thumb on the bags under Louis’ eyes, then running his fingers down his nose. He wiggled his leg between Louis’ thighs and closed his eyes._

_“Hey,” Louis mumbled so quietly Harry could barely hear it. “Are you actually here?”_

_“Mmhmm,” Harry hummed against Louis’ throat. “Just wanted to come sleep with you.”_

_Louis made an affirmative sound and they fell asleep._

_Harry’s alarm went off barely four hours later, and he found it very hard to disentangle himself from around Louis._

_“Wakey wakey,” Louis ran his hand down Harry’s back, leaving it on his bum to stroke the naked skin with his skin. “Be a good boy now, Haz. Get up.”_

_“Don’t want to,” Harry hugged Louis tighter. “My skin will wither if it comes out of contact with yours.”_

_Louis laughed hoarsely and patted Harry’s bum. “Get up, have a shower, I’ll order coffee from the room service. I might have a surprise for you but you need to earn it.”_

_Groaning, Harry got up slowly and took a shower. He came back to the divine smell of coffee, coming from a tray of cups and a pot laid on the bed. There were also two minipacks of Choco Pops and two small bowls, with extra milk set on the tray._

_They leaned towards the headboard, snuggled so close to each other that their skin was touching from shoulder to the tip of their toes. It was still dark outside but it was starting to look like some rays of sun were waking up in the distance. They had their coffee and cereal breakfast in comfortable silence. Just as Harry’s was dressed up and about to leave, Louis gave him another new ring – sort of a rule, or a tradition, as well. This one had a turquoise stone and every time Harry looks at it later, it reminds him of that one night in New York and how he’d really be willing to follow Louis anywhere._

“Was worth it, though. Best sleep I’ve ever had.”

“So fucking glad she’s almost gone for good,” Harry grits his teeth. 

Louis clears his throat. “I think… Like, we’ve been really lucky still, all things considered.” 

“What do you mean?” 

Louis waves his hand around. “Like, look around you. We live in a fantastic house. Many fantastic houses, actually. We don’t have to worry about money, and like, we get that money out of doing what we love to do. I mean, we’re writing another song just now.” 

Harry muses Louis’ words for a bit and then nods in agreement. “You’re right. I think with… All the shit we’ve been through already, and the stuff we still do, it’s just… A blessing, really, to be on the same page. Like, music is so important, for both of us, but I don’t think… either of us would choose it before each other.” 

“Never.” 

“And like, having to do the stupid stuff just… sort of, enables us to have this. I think we’re lucky to have the same dreams. It’d be so much harder if we didn’t, like, have the same happy ending in mind and…”

“Yeh,” Louis sighs. “It is what it is. But at least we’re what we are.” 

“I think, at the end of the day, getting to do what you always dreamt of, and getting to do it together… Like, it’s worth it. The cost is big but it’s not… too much.” 

Neither of them mention the several times they’ve argued and cried about whether the cost actually might be too big; there’s no point. They stopped fighting about it a while back, when they realised that every argument always ended up the same way – with them agreeing that yes, it was worth it. Now they try to approach it from a bit of distance, just like another work appearance. Sometimes it’s easier, sometimes it’s not. 

“Good thing we’re both so stubborn. Weaker people would’ve probably given up by now.”

Harry turns to look at Lou, and cradles his head to his chest. “You’re the strongest person I know, Lou. I owe you everything, really.” 

“You don’t owe me anything, Haz. I wouldn’t… Like, I wouldn’t bother to fight for this if you weren’t you. You’re worth fighting for.”

Harry lets out a sound that sounds suspiciously like a sniff. After a few moments, it’s followed by a chuckle. “Even if I don’t know how to pronounce English villages?” 

_“I can’t do this!” Harry yelped as he dropped his head to the steering wheel. “Don’t make me do this, Lou.”_

_“It’s just a two hours’ drive. Through the quiet roads. And it’s like, midnight. No traffic whatsoever.”_

_“What if I hit a sheep?”_

_“This is Peak District, love, not Wales. Plus this car actually comes with brakes, and I think you know how to work those.”_

_“I’m nervous.”_

_“You wanted to learn how to drive!”_

_“But I can still be nervous of actually driving on the A roads!” Harry sounded a bit shrill._

_“Fine, I’ll drive to Donny then,” Louis sighed and unbuckled his seatbelt._

_But Harry didn’t budge. Instead, he started the car. Louis couldn’t help but smile, as he put the seatbelt back on._

_It was a warm summer night, as they put BBC Radio 2 on to enjoy a more chill roadtrip soundtrack than what their first choice of Arctic Monkeys would’ve been. They drove with the windows open, letting the warm summer breeze in as they sang along to the classic tunes on the radio._

_Louis was eyeing Google Maps. “Alright, so there’s a place pretty much halfway that we could have a stroll in. Apparently it’s famous for its plague.”_

_“What?” Harry laughed. “That’s a bit grim.”_

_“You love grim weird stuff like that, don’t lie.”_

_“Pfft. Why is it famous for plague? I thought plague mainly roamed in London.”_

_“Apparently, the village tailor ordered some cloth from London in 1665 and the cloth was… Infected, I guess.”_

_“Ooh, a cursed piece of fashion! Of course we’ll go. Where am I driving to, then?”_

_“Uhm… It’s spelled E-y-a-m, so I guess it’s like Eh-uhm.”_

_Harry tutted. “No, that’d like Ee-am. Like Liam, but without the L.”_

_“No, Eh-uhm.”_

_“Come on, Lou. Clearly it’s Ee-am. This is my side of the country.”_

_“Donny is literally about six minutes closer to that place than Holmes Chapel.”_

_They bickered back and forth for a bit, both repeating the pronunciation they thought is correct._

_“That’s it,” Louis finally decided. “I’m going to google.” He looked at his phone for a bit, wrote something and then whistled. “Well fuck me.”_

_“Ha!” Harry gloated. “Stopping at the next service station to buy you some humble pie.”_

_“Save your money. Apparently the correct way to say it is Eem.”_

_“Eem?” Harry scrunched his nose. “That makes no fucking sense.”_

“I still don’t get it,” Harry shakes his head. “English is so weird.” 

“Not as weird as you,” Louis pokes a finger to Harry’s dimple. “Alright, what have you got scribbled down?” 

Louis passes his laptop to Harry in an exchange for his notebook. The page is a scribbled sort of mind map, whereas Louis’ opened document has more cohesive lines written out. Harry’s mumbling the lines quietly, as Louis makes a few additions to Harry’s page. 

“I think something like, ‘so let’s do this’ should be the last line, like saying ‘ok, let’s jump on this’.” 

Harry thinks for a bit. “ _Let’s start right now?_ ” 

“Perfect.” 

It’s almost two at night when they reckon the lyrics are polished enough, and they’re both happy with it.

“Should I email this to Julian?” 

“Yeah, why not. I mean, it doesn’t hurt to try. I love what we did.”

\--

Julian calls the next evening, after Louis and Harry have bid farewell to Stan.

“Hey mate, just putting you on speaker,” Louis starts and places the phone on the kitchen counter. 

“Hi Julian,” Harry says cheerfully as he’s licking an ice cream cone. “Are you wearing your hat?” 

Julian laughs on the phone. “I am, actually. Just enjoying a cold beer on the pool. Very sunny.” 

Louis frowns. “It’s like, hardly midday there.” 

“It’s always five o’clock somewhere, Tommo. Anyway! About the song you sent.” 

Harry looks at Louis under his eyelids and waits. 

“Perfect, yeah. Did you like it?” 

“It’s got potential, definitely. Just… This isn’t about you guys, is it?” 

Louis rolls his eyes. “Of course not.” 

“Why would we write a love song about a five year relationship?” Harry queries.

“Sounds unreasonable.” Louis pretends to sound doubtful. “Honestly, Julian. A bit dim sometimes, aren’t you?” 

Julian just laughs. “Thought so. I mean, it’s very sweet and fun, but… I mean, guys, you know we can’t put this out there with you as the writers. I’m happy to use this and see where we can go with this, but, it needs a bit more… You know.” 

“Heterosexuality?” Harry guesses with a bored voice. 

“We’ll just have Liam say ‘girl’ a few times,” Louis offers. 

Julian sighs on the other end of the phone, sympathetically but he’s not budging. “Make it less obvious it’s about you and then get back to me. Later, guys!” He hangs up. 

Louis stares at the phone, disappointed. Harry finishes his ice cream with crunching the waffle so loudly it’s like he’s punishing it for Julian’s words. 

“At least we tried,” Louis offers Harry, deflated. “Like, it’s a very us song, so I guess…” 

“Oh we’re doing that song,” Harry interrupts him and he sounds determined and a bit pissed. “We’ll give him just what he fucking wants and we’ll do that song and it’ll be a success, even if it kills me.” 

Harry hops off the counter and goes to Louis’ bag to get his laptop. He sits down by the table and opens the lid, keying in the password and opening the lyrics doc. 

“You game?”

Louis looks at Harry in awe, stunned with how venomous and confident and so… resolute Harry is being. He loves seeing Harry like this, when he shows off how far he’s come from the times when they were just kids and Harry would be so sad about something like this, feeling like his whole being was under criticism; that everything was somehow his fault, because he wasn’t this or that enough. 

“I’m game.” Louis goes to the fridge and takes out two Sol’s, happy to also find a somewhat fresh looking half of lime. He cuts it to two slices and plops them down the bottlenecks. He sits down next to Harry and offers the other beer to him, Harry taking a big gulp out of it. 

Harry wiggles his fingers above the keyboard as if prepping himself to get writing, but then lowers his hands. “I… I’ve got nothing.” He sounds discouraged, with the earlier defiance wearing off. 

“We’ll get there, don’t worry babe.” 

They sit down quietly for a bit, sipping their beers and reading the lyrics they have so far. 

“What else could be like a first meeting with expectations?” Louis thinks out loud. 

“Oh!” Harry finally says. “What if we… like, interlinked two different stories? One of us meeting, like keep some of the original lyrics but then write about, like what the… people we have business arrangements with might expect? Like, ‘oh I’ll never bring you flowers or be there to support you, but I will always stay by your side’, kinda thing?” 

Louis starts cackling evilly and slaps Harry’s back. “Fucking love it. We’re going to go so fucking meta even Julian doesn’t know what the hell the song’s about anymore.”

“Perfect for you, and perfect for other people’s business needs. Like, we can promise each other this but nothing for them.” 

The lyrics start pouring surprisingly easily, and they mess around with the order of the lines so it’s not a clearly constructed, linear storyline. It sounds like it has a few stories running together along the song, which it does, but it’s hard to quite catch what lines are about which. 

They look at the finished new draft, and high five each other. 

“Oh, one more thing I wanna add.” Louis types in a line about flashing cameras and wanting those from the relationship. Harry reads it and smiles, nodding approvingly. 

\--

The song bounces back from Julian, again, after a week or so. It’s now gotten other writers added to it, some lines added and some deleted. 

“This sounds like…” Harry starts unsure.

“Like us. Or what we’re supposed to be. Perceived to be.” 

“Yeah, like… fucking around and never being serious.” Harry looks sad. “And like, what the hell is this bit about writing breakup songs? Is that supposed to be a dig at Swift? From me?” 

“It’s just giving the world our public reputation as a song,” Louis rubs Harry’s tense neck. “We know what we meant. We know what we are.”

**Author's Note:**

> Thank you so much for reading, I hope you enjoyed this. 
> 
> Kudos and comments are perfect and I'd love to hear from you x


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